


drunk snek, plz don't eat

by silentsonata



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ancient Rome, M/M, Post-Scene: Rome 41 AD (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentsonata/pseuds/silentsonata
Summary: Aziraphale thinks on his feet. Crowley loses his feet. Or, as some may take it, is swept off them.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 115





	drunk snek, plz don't eat

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [serpens ebrius, noli edere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26740042) by [curtaincall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curtaincall/pseuds/curtaincall). 



> A massive, massive thanks to Cherry (@curtaincall, the writer of this amazing piece) for giving me the gift of homework over this non-holiday season. I took many liberties and extrapolated a lot in my translation, but I hope it adds to the overall piece! 
> 
> It was an absolute delight to reminisce about my first Latin textbook through this fic, and I wholly recommend a read in the original Latin to anyone who knows even the smallest bit. Plus, you might find translations in even _more_ languages at the bottom!

There is a small storeroom at the back of Petronius' cozy little pub. Aziraphale, who is a friend of this very Petronius, has a key. Nobody else has a key.

You know what that means.

Ergo, the small storeroom is a big secret. No-one is able to see the moving hands of the angel. No-one is able to see the eyes of the demon, wide open. Nothing can be heard, save for gasping pants and the intimate meetings of lips.

Then, the door of the storeroom, the storeroom to which _no-one_ has a key, is opened. Aziraphale pushes Crowley aside.

"Quickly, you fool," he says, "Conceal yourself!"

Crowley is struck with confusion, not unlike a young billy-goat at a sacrifice when water is sprinkled atop its head. "Who the hell is it?"

"I do not know," Aziraphale responds. "And that is why you must be hidden away."

Crowley swivels his head, scanning his surroundings. The storeroom, being small, does not have many places in which he can hide.

"Where the f-"

"Here, with utmost speed!" Aziraphale exclaims. His muscles ripple, bared by the toga, lacking sleeves. He picks Crowley up and promptly dunks him into a barrel.

The barrel, being made for wine, has wine in it. But alas! The barrel cannot contain multitudes, not when said multitudes are Crowley and wine.

Because he had heard a voice, Crowley does not want to leave the wine barrel. So that he might commit to this desire, he changes himself into a snake to become smaller.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale catches sight of whoever has entered the small storeroom.

It is Archangel Gabriel.

"Gabriel," Aziraphale says, burying his discontent. "Hello, there!"

"Hello, Aziraphale," Gabriel returns.

"How on earth did you get in? That is- Why have you come here?"

"Oh, just wanted to say hello," Gabriel, Archangel of Fucking With Aziraphale, says. "I'm in Rome."

"That is clear." A clamorous clatter is heard from the direction of the barrel.

"What is it?" Gabriel asks. 

Aziraphale places himself in front of barrel, guarding it better than anything else he has guarded in his life. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you're talking about."

"The clattering!"

"Sorry, didn't hear a peep," Aziraphale replies.

Reader, you ask what the commotion is. It is Crowley, snake-ified, swimming about in the wine. See, Aziraphale does not know this. Nevertheless, he does not want Gabriel to look inside.

"Have you any of your wits about you?" Aziraphale asks. "You hear noises where there are none."

"Didn't you hear that?" Gabriel says. "It was so obvious!"

Aziraphale chuckles in the bitchiest way anyone could hope to chuckle. "Perhaps you should return to heaven. Your corporation seems to be... what's the word? Defective."

Gabriel sighs. "You think so?"

"Yes, I think so," Aziraphale says with thinly-veiled enthusiasm. "If you don't return to Heaven soon, your corporation might expire."

"Dangnabbit!" Gabriel says. "Then, I shall return."

"That is a wise decision," Aziraphale says. Suddenly, Gabriel disappears. When he is sure that Gabriel has left, Aziraphale opens the wine barrel. Floating inside it is a very drunk snake.

"I don't know what I expected," Aziraphale sighs.


End file.
